


Looks Like A Night For A Party

by glittergrenade



Category: Avengers (Comics), Avengers AI
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Bromance, Fluff, Gen, Hank and Vizh, Hypomania, Kinda, Mental Illness, Party, not slash tho, partaaayyyyy, party not actually in the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 13:37:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4921603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittergrenade/pseuds/glittergrenade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Hank can be just the friend that Vision needs, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looks Like A Night For A Party

**Author's Note:**

> Notes:  
>  _"Looks like a night for a party,_  
>  _My nature so naughty,_  
>  _Knock on the door it's the neighbors,_  
>  _Quit cock-blocking!"_  
>  ~NOTHING AT ALL to do with the story, but a hilarious music video tbh… "And We Danced" by Macklemore if you didn't know and you care at all

"Guys!" Hank yelled, standing up on a chair and yanking the Vision out of a very heavy gloomy mood. "It's time to party!!!"

"Are you crazy?" Monica raised an eyebrow at him. "Because it's ten at night and I'm pretty sure you're clinically insane." Ugh, why was this woman even still around?

"Yeah, put it nice and gentle," Alexis narrowed her eyes at the military woman sarcastically, while Hank clucked his tongue.

"What?" Victor rubbed his eyes, blinking sleepily. The boy'd started to doze off. "Party…?"

"Doombot does not party," stated Doombot.

 _Party??_ Oh, geez. Sure, they had saved the world, but there was a long way to go before AI had equal rights. Geez, after centuries of civil rights movements, even black humans still didn't have equal opportunity, so Vision could easily calculate the vastness of the minimum expanse of time that had to pass (barring the extinction/subjugation of humanity) before AI were even widely considered to be _people_. Sometimes being this logical could be hella overwhelming. Vision had all that to worry about, the whole frigging future of his kind — and now he had to deal with Hank like this, again? He briefly measured Hank's pulse, breathing, etc… crap, crap, crap. "Hank, your blood pressure—" Vision began.

"Awesome!" Hank beamed, hopping on his toes and leaping down to the floor. "Which nightclub?"

"We're going to a nightclub?" Victor seemed very awake all of a sudden.

"It's a hard call," Hank shrugged briskly. "I mean, all my tech stuff is fun too, right? (Rhetorical question.) I wouldn't be against shrinking us down and partying with ants, if that wouldn't be too similar to what Scott Lang does every weekend. But then I thought, when's the last time I went clubbing? And I couldn't remember. So then I thought, what the &%@$ is wrong with me? Sorry for cursing. Should I apologize? Yes? No? No? Great! Get dressed!"

"Hank?" Alexis was giving him a confused look. "I thought you were going to do inventing, creating, expanding new horizons and exploring the old ones…?"

"I am!" Hank nodded vigorously. "I could literally create for weeks on end! I've got so many ideas! But right now, let's just party!"

"Hank, your behavior has been erratic since…" Vision tried again. _Since forever._ Damn this.

"I feel great, I swear," Hank grinned at him, winking a few times as if to assure him. Well, that sure wasn't reassuring.

Fortunately, the synthezoid was able to match his speed. "I'm glad. But I'm also concerned—"

"Don't be!" Hank laughed. "I checked my vitals, what do you think I am, an idiot? If so, I'm still one of the nine smartest idiots the Leader snatched up during the Red Hulk showdown, remember that? Vizh? (Hashtag throwback Thursday.) Is it even Thursday?"

"So you checked your vitals and…" Vision prompted patiently. As an AI, he tended to be more on the patient side, or he figured he literally would not be in this room anymore. Nothing was okay. They couldn't just go and party like lunatics.

"Around the kids? Seriously? Do you have any idea what kind of machinery I have in my lab?" Hank raised an eyebrow. His hands were shaking. "Vizh, relax. I'm kidding. Everything is cool. We saved the world. We're a team, things are great, okay? You being unhappy is counterproductive. Any unhappiness on your part should not be brought on by me, but you all should be happy too. Victor is alive and well and we're all alive and the world is moderately safe and I'm happy. Come on, guys!"

"Well, Victor can't come to a club," Vision pointed out.

"Weren't you listening to what he's saying? I'm sure our genius Hank can whip up a fake ID in two seconds!" Victor seemed mildly amused.

"That would be illegal!" Monica glowered at them all.

"Doombot does not go to nightclubs," Doombot insisted loftily.

"C'mon, bro," Victor sang. "Hank told me you're an amazing dancer."

Vision grabbed Hank by the hand. "Are you sure you feel great?"

"Yeah, nosypants…" Hank lowered his voice, but not an awful lot. "Look, obviously you need a talk, so let's talk." He squeezed Vision's yellow hand with surprising gentleness, and dragged him to the door. Vision didn't resist, following him out into the hall. He was anxious to hear what Hank had to say; and to help calm Hank down. The scientist was bound to have realized that he wasn't okay right now — Hank was painfully aware that his issues had history of hurting those closest to him, and thus invested enormous amounts of energy into trying to minimize that, with many precautions and dangerous experiments that maybe weren't entirely done in his right mind, but came from a good place in his heart. Hank had a heart of gold, Vision knew that. He just wished it didn't have to be crowded over by personal baggage and mental illness, so that everyone could see it.

Hank closed the door tightly, shutting them outside from the rest of the gang, then stared at Vision, putting an arm on each shoulder. Hank's grip was solid and his stare was intense, and when he spoke, his words tripped over each other in what seemed basically like a stream of consciousness.

"Vizh. Vizh, Vizh, Vizh, you're a good friend, but please don't worry about me. It's so counterproductive. I'm finally happy again, even if it's not real, it's not bad — please can you be happy for me too? I'm not dangerous or anything, either. I was in a manic depression for the longest time, you know that, you know that's the worst, you know it's what makes dudes with guns go on killing sprees which end with their suicide, which I would never do, hopefully, just bad guys. Hopefully. Just, right now it's gone and I'm free and it just looks like some super mild hypomania is coming on, but it's good. It's fine. It's because we won, I'm happy, it triggered something. I'm good though. Do I need to keep talking technical or are you with me?" Hank stopped suddenly, and sighed heavily, staring at the floor. Man. Vision's heart went out to him.

He took Hank's hands slowly from his shoulders, holding them in his own. "Okay. I trust you." It wasn't true, but talking down to Hank wouldn't help anything. "Just… don't let your emotions control you, right? Euphoria is pleasant, but too much of it can—"

"Make me delusional, I know," Hank cut him off. He bit his lip, staring into Vision's eyes. "Vision, _I'm okay_. I promise. I know you pretty well, Vision. After all, I am technically your grandfather, right? Do you honestly think I can't tell when you're unhappy?" He had slowed down a little, his eyes wistful. "Our victory didn't satisfy you, and I don't blame you for that, given what all the AI's have been though. I'm trying to help you, and I know I'm not good at it; but the last thing I want is add my stupid ass to your list of problems! So please don't worry about me. I'm here for you, Vizh. Always. You know that, right?" Hank was shaking, rather alarmingly violently at this point. That was a bad sign, and the first thing that went to Vision's head — then Hank's words went to his heart.

_I'm here for you, Vizh._

Vision nodded, a fresh warmth glowing in his synthezoid body. _Always._

The grin spread back across Hank's face. "Awesome. You do get that I'm doing this for you, right? You need a party to cheer up. I don't need a party, I'm great. You're not. Look, on the bright side Vizh, if you're that concerned, and you would only feel _comfortable_ babysitting me — here's your chance. It'll help you, I know it will." He swung open the door. "You need this party, Vision, big time, or you'll get premature frown wrinkles. Guys! Who's coming, it's time to go!"

"Whooo!" Victor cheered, pulling Doombot along with him out the door. The rest seemed less enthusiastic, but all loaded the van all the same.

Hank squeezed Vision's hand. "I'll drive. Sit back, relax. It's okay."

"Can I drive?" Vision said instantly. It wasn't that he didn't trust Hank to drive… it was more that he'd relax better if he was doing it himself. But he did feel better already. No matter what Hank's state of mind — he loved the Vision, and he was trying to help him, in spite of all his own problems. It was moving.

"Knock yourself out," Hank grinned, hopping over to the car and climbing in. "Club, club, he we come. Vision, you're gonna be just great."


End file.
